


Worth His Weight in Gold

by Froggyflan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Junkrat, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Having sex on a pile of mail because why not, Knotting, M/M, Omega Roadhog, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggyflan/pseuds/Froggyflan
Summary: Roadhog finds someone who sort of gets it, and Junkrat aims to please.





	Worth His Weight in Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> My Secret Santa gift for Gay Caesar! Merry Christmas, friend! :)))))

He is not an easy lay.

It might have something to do with his size, or the way he wields his hook. He is unflinching from a fight, and determined to kill. He shakes the earth when he walks, and his fists are caked in blood and dirt. It may even be the way his breath rumbles out of him like a great fucking beast, untouchable and undefeatable.

So it’s no surprise that he is alone when his heats come. It’s funny to see an alpha sniffing around his hiding spot in Junkertown, following his trail until they find him. And then it’s only a single second before they look at him and turn to run. Every season is the same. 

No one takes a chance with him. Not a soul.

It’s a miserable experience, just as always. His skin is on fire and his insides roll about like they’re trying to kill him. His body yearns for a touch of any kind, even a haughty look would be enough to unravel him. He tries to sleep through it. He takes pills -the kind he has to pay good money for- until he passes out. No one fucks around with him when he sleeps. He snores like a wild boar; it’s just another deterrent. 

And then Junkrat happens.

He doesn’t expect the bastard to follow him out of that bar, but he does. He doesn’t think anyone would want his company, in this day and age. The man is all energy, bubbling up at the surface and ready to blow. It’s hard keeping him alive when he’s always thrusting fingers into people’s faces and kicking dirt into their eyes. He never thought he would find a companion, let alone a partner in crime. He’s feisty and unpredictable-

But he asks too many questions.

“You’re a soft one, aren’t you? How d’you suppose that happened?”

Soft. That’s what they want to call him. But they can’t. He proves himself. He proves he isn’t like all the others.

“Dunno,” he answers, like it’s that simple. Junkrat rubs at his chin as if he were capable of growing hair there, as if a beard would make him intellectual.

“All the softs I ever had were tiny things. Never met one taller than meself, at least.”

“First time for everything.”

There’s a pout to his lips, and his big eyebrows push together in a way that shows he is truly and utterly confused. He’s thinking hard, and it shows.

“Is that why you’re so big? You pregnant?”

He doesn’t feel bad about tipping over the plastic crate Junkrat had been sitting on. And he doesn’t feel bad when he hits the floor with a loud thud, or when the crate pops open and spills mail all over him, or when he starts fighting to not be buried under it all. He is glad for the mask hiding his smile.

“Alright! Jesus! Asshole!”

The freighter they’re traveling on has awful security. One measly little guard isn’t going to keep them off this ship, and none of the crew come down to the deck at night. The sound of waves and creaking steel is louder than anything they’d be doing, as long as it isn’t explosive. They had explored the containers for the hell of it, and this one is full of mail.

Junkrat slips about on his peg before his good foot finds itself. He is fuming, with bared teeth and angry orange eyes. “You fucking dag, I was just asking!”

Roadhog throws a dress catalog at his chest and he responds with a huff. “Cut it out!”

Junkrat had never questioned his orientation before. It had never been brought up. He was getting older, unhealthier, and his heats were becoming more and more irregular. He’d been with Junkrat for nearly a year and a half, and his season had come and gone without so much as a fever. Junkrat had been right on time for his, and he’d dragged Roadhog to any brothel that would have him. Waiting outside while his boss relieved his tension was taxing at the least, frustrating at the most. He had been dreading the idea of Junkrat reacting to his heats, and he was thankful to not find himself in that situation quite yet.

But it would come. At any moment, at any time, and he would be a terrible mess. He wouldn’t be able to protect Junkrat, and he wouldn’t have the sweet solitude he’d found in Junkertown. He would have to wait it out like all the others. And if Junkrat is asking, he must be able to smell it coming on. The thought churns Roadhog’s guts.

“It’s just funny, is all,” Junkrat mumbles as he kicks the crate back over and stomps on the letters and packages under his boot. “You ain’t like the rest of them. They’re so boring, and you’re brilliant.”

Roadhog lets that sit in his head for a long moment, watching Junkrat kick everything about, spreading paper all over the ground. He is antsy, and is giving Roadhog curious, thoughtful looks. He stands tall, breaking from his typical slouch and twitchy demeanor to something attentive and interested. There is a sudden scent about him, fierce and powerful.

No, Junkrat is courting him.

He wonders if there is something wrong with that. There’s an odd warmth creeping into his chest as Junkrat twiddles his thumbs; one creaky with tight gears and the other burned and blackened.

“I ain’t saying you’re bad ‘cause of it. Don’t mean you’re weak or nothing. Ain’t your fault. And you’re still you.”

Wise words, coming from a lunatic. But they’re doing the trick despite the queasiness brewing in him. No one’s ever talked to him like that. No one’s ever told him he’s worth more than what the world thinks of him, what the fates had decided for him. It’s not a heat flaring up in his blood, but it’s certainly something.

Roadhog is dead still as Junkrat ventures closer, his eyes darting to Roadhog’s fists, as if they’ll punch him if he gets within range. He’s radiating anxiety, but he holds steadfast. Bravery burns in his lopsided smile.

“Might be a stupid idea, but I wouldn’t mind you,” he says, “if you wouldn’t mind me either.”

And that’s that. Roadhog doesn’t care about consequences or rationality or even common sense anymore. He just wants what his body has craved for, begged for, for ages. He’s repressed it for too long, depraved himself for no reason beyond his own pride. And Junkrat is eager to please, quick to get into trouble. It’s all fun and games, this life they’ve found with each other, and this is no different. It’s a pop of a buckle, of buttons, the zip of a zipper. It’s the pulling of straps until the mask comes undone, and Junkrat is kissing at his face like he’s been meaning to since forever.

There’s some law about tampering with or destroying mail, and Roadhog likes the idea that they’re being criminals even when they’re fucking. He’s spread out over a pile of letters, and he has enough calluses and hair to not be afraid of papercuts. Junkrat is two fingers deep in him, and even though he’s sure he isn’t in heat quite yet, he is so unbelievably wet. It’s a surprise when Junkrat’s mouth is suddenly full of cock, and Roadhog’s admittedly startled by it. He never thought he’d have a partner so willing to fulfill his needs. Junkrat doesn’t seem to really know what he’s doing, but the effort makes up for the sloppiness. It’s a tight suction with testing teeth, a tongue that is lost and useless. He bobs to the rhythm of his fingers; up, down, in, out.

When the time comes, and Junkrat enters him carefully, slowly, with too much giggling, Roadhog feels like he could get used to this far too easily. He arches his back, and the corners of the bent letters beneath him stab at his skin. Junkrat fucks him as gently as he’d expect, which is not at all. His hips are quick like a jackrabbit, thrusts painful and slapping. His hands squeeze at Roadhog’s thighs, spread his cheeks to push deeper. Roadhog likes the urgency, loves the feeling of fast pistoning motions. He wants more of that, and Junkrat obliges immediately. The pace is unrelenting for several moments, in which Roadhog relishes in being taken over and overwhelmed.

Junkrat’s hand attends to his cock, squeezing an orgasm out of him that he didn’t think he’d actually get. It’s not necessary, he thinks. Because that’s what he’d been told, that’s what they all say. But Junkrat gave him his. He doesn’t have to, but he does it anyway. There’s a thundering pleasure booming in him, spurting out his cock and making Junkrat laugh. It’s a wonderful feeling he’d never felt, not while an alpha fucked him like he meant something. It’s delicious and right.

The knot that fills him is thick and demanding. Junkrat slows to little pumps and hard pushes until he’s stuck within him. It’s a treat to watch Junkrat throw back his head and yell out his climax, clutching at Roadhog’s hips as if they could escape. Roadhog feels him cum, his insides clenched and tight to milk him of it. Junkrat twitches as it floods out of him, and Roadhog takes it all. It won’t come to fruition, and they both know this. Roadhog will be sure it never does. They won’t ever be parents, and they are free to carry on living dangerously. It’s who they are, and nothing will stop them.

Junkrat kisses at his belly like it’s a beautiful pile of treasure made of gold coins and sparkling jewels. It’s a pretty feeling. Junkrat’s eyes peer at him with a sly, excited look. It would be stupid to think there wouldn’t be more where that came from, as if Junkrat would forget this moment, or not do everything in his power to prove he has what it takes, or to prove Roadhog is worth all his energy and attention. He suddenly feels so very valuable, and when Junkrat looks at him like this, he can’t bring himself to deny it.

He’s rich in a way he didn’t know he could be.


End file.
